


It's Not Home (But It'll Do)

by canadianhannah



Series: Tales to Fight the Quarantine Blues [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Asshole!Gerard, COVID-19, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Masturbation, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, University AU, lockdown - Freeform, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23268637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canadianhannah/pseuds/canadianhannah
Summary: When Frank's university is put on lockdown, he gets ready for a few weeks in sweet isolation - that is, until his enigmatic roommate Gerard gets stranded too.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: Tales to Fight the Quarantine Blues [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673188
Comments: 15
Kudos: 167





	It's Not Home (But It'll Do)

Frank Iero was a great many things. He was the best guitar player he knew, he was outstandingly gifted at making spaghetti sauce from scratch, and he was hopelessly, deeply romantic. Not that the latter came up very often – he hadn’t had a partner in the last six months. At first the freedom had been a treat, but slowly the ache of loneliness began to seep into his bones, until he could feel it bubbling away, burning just under the skin of his chest.

As a matter of fact, Frank thought as he walked along the hall to the communal kitchen, he didn’t get a chance to use that spaghetti sauce regularly enough, either. Living in shared accommodation for the duration of his college life had _seemed_ like a good idea when he was applying for it (read: it was a _cheaper_ idea), but seven months in and he was beginning to tire of it. He had his own room – one of a long row of eight – but there was an ever-present feeling of not truly being alone.  
That had, in part, something to do with his neighbours. The boy to his left was the kind to usher one girl out at 9am, and be back with another by 6. The girl to Frank’s right was a musical theatre major – and that spoke for itself.

For the moment, though, Frank’s life was full of relative peace. As soon as the University had warned them about potential travel risks associated with the upcoming pandemic, six of his housemates had packed up and returned home immediately. The final one, the boy on his left, was set to leave that same afternoon. Within a few sweet hours, Frank would have the whole hall to himself, where he was free to make his spaghetti sauce without fear of Jordan (room 3) coming to steal some when his back was turned.

Frank grinned as he considered the possibilities of solitude, practically skipping into the kitchen.

“You seem pleased with yourself,” came a cold, disinterested voice from the table. Frank started – spinning on his heels.  
Gerard was three years older, but was in the same year as Frank. They’d barely spoken thus far, but Frank definitely had him pegged as a ‘I put off college to find myself but found fuck all so here I am’ type. In Gerard’s defense, Frank could sort of see what his various hookups saw in him - he was tall, but well-built, his features rounded and feminine, right up to the end of his pixie nose. His fingers were long and slender as the carelessly flicked through the pages, his small, squared teeth occasionally catching on his pink lips as he read.

“Uh, can I help you?”

The words were a stark reminder to Frank that he was currently standing in his pyjamas, one cotton leg bunched up under his knee, staring bleary-eyed at his housemate who was little more than an acquaintance.

“No. Sorry,” Frank mumbled, shuffling over to the kettle. Gerard sighed, sliding his book away from him, instead grabbing his phone, swiping through it lazily.

“When are your folks getting here?” Frank asked conversationally. He leaned against the cool marble of the counter, using Gerard’s momentary distraction to return to studying him. His eyes flicked to the deep bruises that lined the other boy’s jaw, but he couldn’t quite assimilate them to the boy whose skin they stained.

“Don’t know,” Gerard mumbled, “they should be here already, but-“ he was cut off by the sharp vibrating of his phone. He sighed, standing up and heading out to the hall without so much as a glance in Frank’s direction. The younger boy didn’t mind much – he wasn’t sure when he’d see Gerard again after this, so he wasn’t too bothered about making friendships now. There was talk of travel being restricted for at least the rest of the school year, so unless Gerard was prepared to return in the middle of summer, it looked like this was goodbye.  
At the very least, Frank wouldn’t have to hear the incessant creak of his bed, nor the gentle grunts he’d come to be familiar with. It was almost odd, really, to be able to look a man directly in the eyes, knowing he’d heard that same man at his most vulnerable moment. Though by the sounds of it, there was nothing ‘vulnerable’ about it.

**URGENT MESSAGE FOR ALL STUDENTS  
  
**

It has been brought to our attention that a full travel ban  
has been put into place, beginning immediately. All students  
currently on campus will be required to remain for a period of 7 days, upon the completion of which, the situation will be reviewed. Any students planning to leave campus will be unable to at this time.

If you have any concerns, please do not hesitate to call the student services desk from 9am-5pm.

We apologise for any inconvenience caused, and will update you as information becomes available

Regards,

Prof. SRW

Frank got the notification at the same time he heard Gerard’s cry of ‘ _fuck_ ’ from the hallway.

“Shit,” he hissed, running a hand through his hair. All at once, he could feel his plans falling away. He was going to practice the guitar he hadn’t touched in weeks. He was going to write a novel. He was going to catch up on all the course material until he knew it back to front. He was-

Gerard reentered the room, face impassive, save for the redness that curled around his cheeks.

“So I’m stuck here,” he said, voice monotonous. Frank could see the anger brewing in his eyes, yet it seemed like the older boy was making a firm effort to not seem angry. Frank sighed, opening the fridge.

“Want a beer?” he asked softly. Gerard only answered by falling into a chair with a groan, head buried in his hands.

***

**DAY 3**

*******

**“** Hey – best before is the same as use by, right?” Gerard asked, face obscured by the fridge door. Frank wrinkled his nose.

“Not even close. Best before is like… you can still eat it, but you won’t die. Use by means get that shit away from you-“

Gerard slammed the fridge door shut, a carton of orange juice clutched in his hand, and a faint glimmer of orange dew resting just above his lip

“Oh. Yeah? That’s a real bummer,” Gerard mumbled, shaking the carton as he stared dejectedly into it. Frank snorted, glancing back down at his notebook.

“If you get sick, I’m not taking you to the hospital,”

“I wouldn’t count on you to. You can’t drive,” Gerard sniffed, grunting as he knocked the carton into the sink, where it fell to rest atop a growing mound of dishes.

“I hope you’re gonna clean that, dude,” Frank muttered, jaw clenched as he waited for the inevitable backlash.

Frank hadn’t known much about Gerard before this whole thing started, but after spending most of their time together for the last 72 hours, Frank knew one, solid truth about the other man, and he felt it resonate in the very depths of his own soul: Gerard was messy as _fuck_.  
Not even just messy. He was unhygienic. Every day thus far had been a battle between whether Gerard was going to spend his allotted 5 minutes of cleanliness on the dishes, or brushing his hair. Though Frank would assume that neither was the case, based on the stack of dishes, and Gerard’s constantly unkempt appearance.

True to assumption, Gerard just gave him a long look from under his eyelashes

“Dude, chill. I’ll get around to it, okay? Get off my ass,” he muttered.

“We’re in here to avoid getting sick, you know. If you give me salmonella, that defeats the point,” Frank snapped. Gerard just laughed, rolling his eyes.

“ _Please_. You’ll be fine. How about you just don’t touch my shit, and we won’t have a problem,” Gerard’s words were calm, but his body was tensed, his eyes narrowed as he watched Frank.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, Gerard, we’re stuck in the same fucking space for fuck knows how long. That space is only going to get _smaller_ if you’re an asshole about it.”

The men were both standing now, mirroring each other’s tense poses from the opposite ends of the room. Frank hadn’t slept well, but he was dressed in jeans and a shirt, despite the redundancy of the action. Gerard, though, hadn’t bothered to change from his pyjamas. The loose, black fabric, swirled with silver spaceships and stars, clung neatly to his thighs, the baggy band shirt hanging just over the waistline – though was pulled up slightly where his hip met the counter, revealing a gentle curve of pasty white skin.

“Y’know – we have our own rooms, right? How about we just-“ Gerard waved a hand, “let’s just avoid each other. You wanted to be alone anyway, right?” he muttered. Frank was stung – but couldn’t deny that it would be a simple fix. Pretending he was on his own, as he had always planned to be, was better than having a standoff in the kitchen.

“Fine. But that’s not gonna fix your dirty dishes, you know. Fucking… practice some basic fucking hygiene, okay?”

Gerard stood, staring at him, seething with rage, yet staying still. Frank was out of his reach by a long shot, but he somehow found himself anticipating Gerard lunging at him.  
Instead the older man straightened up, face going cold and blank

“Fine. I’ll try. Can I offer you some advice?” he asked – his tone didn’t quite match his face; there was a notable hiss to it, the words almost being spat out like they were burning his tongue. He stepped closer to Frank, the movement almost feline in its prowling, intentional drag.

“You’re going to either way. So go,” Frank mumbled. He was growing tired of this. He didn’t care about the argument, he just wanted to go back to his room and play guitar for the rest of the night. Gerard stopped just short of him – not quite in his face, but definitely within his personal space.

“You might want to work on that shitty, one-note personality of yours. We’re both stuck here, but at least I had people coming to get me. You were going to be alone either way – and now I see why. Maybe if you’d quit being such a self-righteous bitch, you’d have someone, you know?”

The words were unnecessarily cruel, and Gerard knew it. Under different circumstances, he’d back down – but he was angry, and it wasn’t Frank’s fault, but there was nothing else to do but pick a fight with this kid three years his junior. He felt powerless, but seeing Frank’s eyes widen with horror made a rush of contentment surge through him (he ignored the twist of guilt in his stomach that immediately followed it).

Frank was silent for a moment, his mouth going dry. He couldn’t defend himself – he wouldn’t have wanted to, even if he could. He just nodded, taking a step back.

“Just stay away from me from now on, okay?”

Gerard almost flinched at how weak his voice was, but forced himself to smear a dismissive glance on his face.

“Works for me,” he snapped, before storming to his room. The slam that followed wasn’t aimed at Frank, but it made him jump nonetheless.

***

 **DAY 8  
*****

Frank realised quite quickly why he hadn’t really seen Gerard around the dorm before. The older man, it seemed, was an expert when it came to avoiding people. If it weren’t for the stack of dishes that Gerard _still_ did not clean, Frank would have actually thought he was alone. Somehow, the men lived at total parallels, and seemed content to continue that way.

Not being able to go anywhere was making Frank a little antsy. Just over a week in, and his guitar had already been abandoned, his video games strewn across the floor in front of his TV. He’d tried getting back into writing, but nothing came to him. Even horror movies didn’t hold the same charm anymore.

From the sounds of things, Gerard had taken to going for walks. There was only ever about a half hour between him leaving the building and arriving back, so Frank assumed that he was exploring the campus grounds, maybe having a cigarette or two. He sometimes got the urge to join him, but the memory of their fight was never far from his mind, the shock of it sharp enough to keep him at bay.

Since there was no established timetable for when any man had to be anywhere, the system of avoiding each other was, inevitably, fallible. The moment of their downfall came on Tuesday evening, just before when Frank would usually have his dinner. Even this short time into their isolation, though, the days and hours had begun to blend into each other, until existence felt like little more than a smear of consciousness across a white canvas, punctuated with uncertainty. That’s why, an hour before his unofficial scheduled time, Frank stumbled, still bleary-eyed from his nap, into the kitchen. His stomach was growling, his ribs almost shaking with the force of it. He was running low on supplies, but he _knew_ he had all the components to make spaghetti – with, of course, the sauce he made better than anyone.

“oh.” The voice that sounded was soft, surprised – wrought with disappointment. Frank glanced up, eyebrows furrowing in surprise, as if he didn’t quite understand what he was seeing. It was as if the sight of his roommate, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, still-wet hair combed back, holding a plate of lasagna in his hand was fixing him to the spot

“You look like you weren’t expecting me to be here.” Frank wasn’t sure when he’d made the conscious decision to speak, but the words came out nonetheless. Gerard laughed, the noise pinched and nervous.

“I wasn’t. Which is silly, because I know you-

“Live here, yeah,” Frank finished for him, a small smile crossing his lips. The pair found themselves plunged back into silence, its deafening drag seeming to flash seconds across their eyes, like a countdown until one of them would speak again.

“If you want, you can join me. Once you’ve made dinner,” Gerard mumbled, eyes flickering down to his food, rapidly cooling before his eyes. Frank swallowed hard, found his head shaking ‘no’ without his own consent.

“No, um. I’m okay. Thanks.”

Gerard’s face fell, disappointment and guilt flashing across his features. Frank’s eyes were drawn to the Iron Maiden shirt, the freshly washed hair, and he felt an odd stirring in his stomach that he couldn’t identify. All he knew was that when he looked at Gerard, all he could remember was the harsh words that had been spat at him.

Gerard nodded, walking towards the door. Towards Frank.

“Right. Sorry. Um- I’ll see you around, then,” he mumbled. Frank stepped aside to let Gerard pass, catching a whiff of vanilla as he did. Frank kept his eyes downcast until he heard Gerard’s door slam, taking a moment before he began to cook his own meal.

He was halfway through when he realised, with a start, that this may have been the first time he’d ever seen or _smelled_ Gerard so clean.

*******

**DAY 14**

*******

Frank had known Gerard to be loud when having sex, but it was _nothing_ compared to how he was on his own. Alone, Gerard was breathy moans, eager chants of profanities spat from his lips, a hand smacking against the wall dividing them, his voice gaining volume with each creak of the bed, until that strangled cry Frank had come to know like the back of his own hand.

On day 14, however, something changed.  
It was 9:35am, and Frank was sitting cross-legged in his room, his bowl of cereal in one hand as he flicked lazily through the channels on the TV. He heard Gerard’s shaking moans begin, heard the thud of the headboard against the wall. Dutifully, Frank turned the volume up slightly – though it did little to mask his roommate’s cries of pleasure, growing each second, the springs on his bed protesting so loudly that Frank absentmindedly wondered how long it would be before they snapped entirely.  
And then, as clear as a bell, cutting straight through any coherent thought Frank could have been having:

_“Aw, fuck, Frank, fuck-“_

*******

**DAY 19**

*******

The news was getting scary. Frank found it difficult to watch anything for too long, before the swell of hopelessness and depression swelled in his chest so he couldn’t breathe. He felt utterly alone – more so than usual. Gerard could often be heard video-chatting his brother, or talking to his parents on the phone. Frank had no one – and perhaps that was why Gerard’s words that day had hurt him so deeply. It wasn’t a secret that he was something of a loner, but in times where people were being told to cherish their loved ones, it stung that he didn’t have any loved ones to cherish.  
All he had was his roommate, who he was currently not even speaking to. Admittedly, that same roommate had begun showering, and cleaning his own dishes, and leaving leftovers in the fridge with notes encouraging Frank to have some if he wanted. The truth was, Gerard was _trying,_ and he didn’t even have to. He had people to turn to, and Frank didn’t – yet it was Gerard who was trying to make amends.

If he was honest with himself, it wasn’t their fight that was keeping him at bay. Gerard’s words had stung, but he wasn’t blind to the fact that Gerard was saying he was sorry, in all the ways he was able to without actually speaking to the other man. Whenever Frank considered knocking on Gerard’s door, or following him outside when he had his little walks, the thing that stopped him in his tracks was the faint memory of his own name slipping through Gerard’s lips, wrapped in a thick bundle of pleasure and desire and _need_. The thought wasn’t unpleasant, so much as it was unnerving. He barely knew Gerard, and while the idea of being wanted so poignantly by someone so attractive wasn’t unwelcome, Frank wasn’t sure he could meet his gaze without blushing and melting into a puddle of teenage punk.  
Frank glanced up at the TV, clouded with people in facemasks, teary eyes peeking above white paper, and felt that familiar sink of anxiety in his chest.  
The decision was made for him. He turned the TV off, grabbed his jacket, and headed down to the courtyard.

Frank didn’t know that Gerard was going to be there, but he wasn’t that surprised when he was. The older man stood, back against a lamppost, cigarette hanging from his lips as he flicked through his phone.

“Hey,” Frank said softly, raising a hand as he approached. Gerard glanced up, mouth quirking upwards a little as he raised his hand, too.  
“Hey. You smoke?” he asked, reaching into his jacket. Frank shook his head, smiling softly.

“Nah. Asthmatic,” he explained. Frank came to an awkward halt a couple feet away from Gerard – without a lamp post of his own to rest on, he looked a little out of place. Gerard laughed, taking a deep pull to swallow down the sound.

“Asthma, huh? So this whole illness thing, it’s gotta have you-“

“Shaking in my little boots? Yeah, pretty much. But it puts things into perspective, y’know? Knowing that at any minute, a random flu can knock you the fuck out,”

“Yeah? Y’know, normal breathers like me have to go to mountaintops to get clarity like that. You get it for free,” Gerard teased. He threw the cigarette away, though there was still more than half left. Frank watched the embers fade and die as it rest against the cold floor.

“Gerard, I just…wanted to say that I’m sorry. For being so rude to you before. The world’s a whole mess right now, and there’s more important things than a few dirty plates.” Frank didn’t look at him as he spoke, instead staring at the bushes, trying to count the tiny rosebuds that were trying to bloom.

“You don’t have to be. You’re right, you know? I can be a slob when I get depressed,” the words made a shiver of guilt wrack through Frank. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gerard silenced him with a soft smile and a raised hand, “you didn’t know, it’s okay. It’s just…I thought I was gonna get to go home and spend time with my brother. When that didn’t happen… I lashed out, and that was wrong of me. I don’t know you that well, but you’re not any of the things I said. I’ve been trying to make it up to you-

“I noticed. I wanted to thank you, but things have been kinda awkward,” Frank mumbled, meeting Gerard’s gaze with a gentle smile. Gerard shrugged.

“Look, let’s just put it down to it being a weird time. I dunno how long we’re gonna be stuck here together, but it’s-,” he turned his head away, the faint light from the lamppost illuminating the faint blush that blossomed under his cheeks, “it’s been lonely.”

Frank didn’t answer – instead, he let the faint chirp of crickets and the gentle sway of the grass in the breeze serve as his reply.

*******

**DAY 23**

*******

Having Gerard Way as an apologetic acquaintance meant free food and a tidy kitchen. Having Gerard Way as a _friend_ , however, was preferable by far. He maintained the kitchen cleanliness, but instead of leaving Frank leftovers in the fridge, he consistently made enough food for two, and would knock on Frank’s door to tell him so. Frank had taken to eating with him in the kitchen, where the pair would talk about comics, or music – anything except the news, which they had both agreed was a no-go topic. From there, Frank would handle the dishwashing (which Gerard rarely protested), and then the evening was theirs. Sometimes Gerard would say good night straight away, and Frank would be left to his own devices – but more often than not, they would bundle into either of their rooms to watch movies or listen to music.

“Y’know, I don’t get why we didn’t talk before this,” Gerard hummed, watching the credits roll on the b-movie horror they’d been watching.

Frank shrugged, dropping the empty bag of chips they’d been working through onto the floor.

“I think I was intimidated, at first. ‘Cause you’re older than me and seemed to have it together. And then I kind of kept looking for excuses for that to not be the case – when you investigate someone closely enough, you sort of start to see their flaws magnified by a hundred. It’s hard to build a friendship with someone when you’re desperately picking out all the reasons why they’re not better than you.”

Gerard laughed, raising his eyebrows

“Huh, really? I always assumed it was because I’m kind of gross. You’re always so put-together, I know I must seem sort of disheveled by comparison,” he hummed thoughtfully. Frank shrugged, tousling Gerard’s hair playfully. To the older man’s credit, his hair was clean almost all the time now, and the faint scent of vanilla hung around him like an aura.

“You’re not too bad. Besides, I’m a little uptight about cleanliness. I wouldn’t take me as an example,” Frank laughed. He didn’t notice the silence that followed, until he glanced up and noticed the warm, loving glimmer in Gerard’s eyes as he gazed at him. His mind flicked to what he’d heard just over a week before, when Gerard had been alone in his room, and felt his cheeks heat under Gerard’s scrutiny.

“What?” he asked, small smile curling over his lips. Gerard laughed faintly, shaking his head.

“Nothing. Just. You remind me of my baby brother sometimes,” he said calmly, reaching for another bag of chips.  
Frank’s smile fell just as quickly as it had come. He wasn’t sure what he’d been wanting Gerard to say, but it definitely wasn’t that. He tried not to think too hard about why his heart was sinking at the words.

*******

**DAY 28**

*******

Frank wasn’t avoiding Gerard, exactly. He still accepted his offers to share dinner, and they often went out to smoke cigarettes (or not, in Frank’s case). If there had been more than just the two of them in the dorm, Gerard probably wouldn’t have noticed Frank’s aloofness at all.  
Unfortunately for Frank, they _were_ and he _had._

“So did I majorly piss you off, or is it just the quarantine blues getting you down?” Gerard asked one night over dinner. Frank swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the cheese sandwich Gerard had prepared for him.

“I- no, I’m sorry,” he murmured, but only after the silence had drawn out long enough to border on awkward, “I’m just getting restless.”

“I understand that. Honestly, if I didn’t have you and Mikey-“

“Mikey?”

“My baby brother,” Gerard smiled easily. Frank let out a sigh – once again, he was being equated to Gerard’s brother. He didn’t particularly want to unpack why that bothered him, especially not in front of Gerard, so he just nodded.

“Oh, right.”

“You should meet him. You guys are about the same age – he’d love you,” Gerard grinned, continuing to talk as if Frank didn’t look like he was about to throw a plate against the wall.

It was just loneliness. It didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t like he could just go to a bar and pick someone up, or flirt with a cutie in a coffee shop. Frank was locked in with _one_ man – and maybe he’d gotten his hopes up a little. Hearing Gerard breathe his name had, perhaps, given him the idea that maybe they could find companionship in each other. But if all Gerard was looking for was a brother replacement, then he could do that, too. It wasn’t a big deal.

“Frank?”

Gerard was leaned close, hand hovering just short of holding Frank’s.

Frank smiled weakly, tugging his own hand back.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like to meet your brother,” he said, tone absent-minded and faraway. Gerard laughed, standing to rinse his own plate.

“Hey, already meeting the family. We’re practically married,” Gerard teased. Frank groaned, letting his head fall into his arms.

As predicted, Frank and Mikey _did_ get on well. After Frank had cleared their lunch away, Gerard had ushered him into his bedroom to begin what would be a three hour long video call.

Mikey was a lot like Gerard, except younger, and a little more serious. He didn’t take kindly to Gerard’s joke about dying in isolation, and he _very_ sternly told Gerard off for smoking around asthmatic Frank.

“Mikey’s got asthma too,” Gerard explained, beaming sheepishly at the camera. Frank gave a halfhearted smile, nodding.

“Yeah, well. I guess I really am your brother away from home,” he muttered. He winced at the bitterness that tinged his tone, and glanced up to remedy it with a joke. Gerard, apparently, hadn’t noticed, because he continued ploughing forward with his conversation. Mikey, however, glanced at Frank with a furrowed brow, leaving him with the feeling that he was, somehow, able to read his mind.

“I’ve gotta go have dinner,” Mikey said, returning from a shouting down to his mother from his bedroom door. He seemed genuinely deflated, a frown etched into his sweet, youthful face. Gerard smiled, sitting up onto his knees. Frank didn’t miss the gentle crack of his joints, and hid a giggle, an ‘old age’ joke sitting on the edge of his tongue.

“It’s okay, kid. We’ll talk tomorrow,” Gerard said firmly. Mikey nodded, face brightening a little at the idea. Frank couldn’t help but grin too – it was nice seeing siblings being so close.

“It was nice to meet you, Mikey,” Frank said softly, giving a little wave. Mikey nodded.

“Yeah, you too. You guys take care of each other, okay?”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve taken on the role of surrogate brother for Gerard – I’ll make sure he showers and everything,”

The silence that followed was pregnant with something Frank couldn’t identify – nor could he decipher the look the two brothers were giving each other through the computer screen.

“Uh. I mean, I don’t think I’d say that,” Gerard laughed, the noise pitchy and anxious-sounding. Mikey laughed, shaking his head.

‘You’re on your own, big brother. Bye!”

He hung up before Gerard had time to reply, leaving whatever defense he had to hang in the air above the blackened laptop screen. Neither man spoke for a moment, that heavy, promise-filled aura wrapping itself around them.

It was Frank who spoke first

“I might go for a walk before dinner, if that’s okay?” he asked, pulling away. Gerard nodded, gesturing to the door.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll come grab you when it’s done,” he murmured.

Frank swept from the room without another word, making a beeline for the freedom of the outside world.

It was only when he was there, sucking the fresh air into his lungs, that he realised that something significant had just occurred.

*******

**DAY 31**

*******

Gerard swept through the front door, face ashen, eyes bagged and weighted by purple bruises. Raindrops adorned his cheeks, but before Frank could count them, they were brushed away with a cashmere sleeve.

“Hey – you good?” Frank asked softly. The question was an icebreaker more than anything – he’d heard Gerard screaming in his sleep the night before. He wasn’t sure if night terrors were something his roommate got often, but the one from the night before had sounded particularly lethal.

“I’m good,” he lied, voice hoarse as he dropped himself down into one of the dining chairs, “just… had a rough night.”

Frank debated staying quiet, but it was the lost look in Gerard’s eyes that prompted him to speak.

“I know. I heard you screaming,” he said gently. Gerard nodded, unsurprised. The smell of cigarettes was still thick on his fingers as he reached across the table, taking Frank’s mug of coffee and drinking it deeply; Frank let it happen – he wasn’t about to deprive a starving man of his dinner.

“Sorry. I ran out of meds,” he mumbled, chewing his nail as he stared at the table, “guess there’s a shortage or somethin’ – can’t get any for another week.”

Frank frowned, eyebrows furrowing. Gerard looked so lost – hunched over, face drained of colour; he barely even thought about it as he reached over to hold his hand, ignoring the squeeze of his heart when Gerard held his hand right back.

“I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do-“

“There is. But I don’t wanna ask,” Gerard said immediately, shooting him a weak smile. Frank squeezed his fingers.

“C’mon, we’re all we have. Tell me what you need,” Frank murmured. Gerard sighed, pressing his lips together as he considered how to word what he was about to say.

“You can say no, because this is… weird. But can you, uh, sleep with me? Just for a couple nights, until I can get my hands on my pills.”

Frank’s eyes widened, forehead creasing as he stared at the other man

“I- uh- is that a line?” he asked weakly, voice hoarse as it died in his throat. Despite his haggard appearance, Gerard threw his head back, letting a loud, elated laugh slip from his lips.

“No, honey, it’s not a line. I mean, shit-“ he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Despite his words, his cheeks were flushed a pale pink, in stark contrast to the rest of his pallor, “it’s not a line. And if it makes you feel better, Mikey’s done it for me a thousand times,” he smiled.

Frank’s replying smile was tight. It did not make him feel better.

Frank kept his eyes on the clock for the rest of the day, even if he didn’t admit it. He kept lunch time conversation as casual as he could with his teeth rattling in his skull, and swept himself away to practice guitar for most of the day. He put headphones on as he played, so he wouldn’t hear anything that could, potentially, make him even more anxious about that evening.  
As it happened, it didn’t matter either way. The memory of what he’d heard coming from that same bed was ingrained in his mind, reverberating with each note he played.

Gerard was practically trembling as he got ready for bed. He’d put new sheets on his bed, washed and dried his pillowcases. He made sure the room was tidy (or as tidy as it could be – he wasn’t undergoing a lobotomy). He chose a pair of plaid pyjama pants that he knew hugged his thighs, and threw an old band shirt on. He usually slept naked, and while the idea was appealing, he didn’t want to scare Frank away.  
At least, not for a while yet.

At 11pm, Frank knocked tentatively on Gerard’s door. His heart was racing in his chest, but he didn’t have time to even _try_ to unearth the reasoning behind it, before Gerard opened the door. His face was flushed, his lips pulled into an enthusiastic, yet nervous grin.

“Hey. Frank – thank you so much-“ he stammered, stepping aside so Frank could enter. The younger boy smiled, sitting delicately on Gerard’s bed.

“Hey, it’s cool. Nightmares are the worst,” he smiled.

Despite both of them exuding “absolutely fine with this” energy, neither of them moved for some time – both avoiding the other’s gaze. The situation was deeply, deeply awkward – and yet Frank couldn’t bring himself to regret agreeing.

“Um. I’m pretty tired, so-“ Gerard began. Frank rose to his feet, nodding.

“Yeah, I’m good to go straight to sleep. Um. Sleep is good,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. Gerard shot him a sheepish grin, before sliding into the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. Frank tried not to think _too_ hard about what he was doing as he slid under after him.  
Frank had spent several evenings _on_ Gerard’s bed – but this was the first time he’d been _in_ it. The comforter smelled strongly of that same vanilla fragrance that wrapped itself around Gerard – but also something else; something earthier, like freshly cut grass, or the air on a spring day.

“Um. So- sleep?” Gerard asked, voice little more than a whisper. Frank nodded, curling up under the covers.

There were several moments of intense, heavy silence. Frank had 300 words on the end of his tongue, and Gerard had 301. The only sound was the steady beating of both their hearts – though Gerard could swear he could hear his own blood rushing through his veins.

“Thank you for agreeing to this,” Gerard whispered. Both men were facing the ceiling, but upon speaking, Gerard turned his body to face Frank’s. After a breath, Frank turned too, the two boys staring into each other’s eyes in the darkness.

“It’s okay. I’ve been lonely, so this is…nice,” Frank admitted – though he cursed the words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

“It’s not weird? Considering-

“Considering?”

“Y’know. me being bisexual and all,” Gerard said slowly – quite literally spelling it out for Frank.  
Who still didn’t get it.

“Oh. Hey – no, don’t worry. I’m not expecting you to hit on me or anything, it’s all good.” His voice came out a little hysterical, and he found himself praying that Gerard would just _shut up_ and _go to sleep._

“Um. But if I were to hit on you. Would that be a problem?” Gerard asked. His voice, perhaps, would have been seductive, if his anxiety hadn’t caused tremors to run through it, making him sound not unlike a scared child.

“I-I mean-,” Frank’s throat was absolutely dry, becoming even more so as he grasped for a reply, “you said I was…I was like a brother to you. Um-“

“I didn’t say that,” Gerard said gently, “I- trust me. I didn’t say that.”

“You said I reminded you of Mikey. So I thought that-“

Gerard let out a soft snort of a laugh, a grin spreading across his cheeks. He reached out, touching Frank’s arm gently with his finger tips – beaming even wider when the younger man shivered.

“Frankie… I meant that you’re like, the same age as him, and that you’re all bossy. I didn’t mean that you’re… _like_ a brother,” Gerard could barely keep the giggle from his voice; he wasn’t laughing at Frank, but rather, in pure relief.

Frank was silent as the pieces that had been suspended in the air for _days_ , finally fell into place, fitting right in the place where his lungs met in the center of his chest.

“I h-heard you. You were in your room, alone… you were-“, had it not been dark, Gerard would have seen a crimson glow emitting from Frank’s cheeks, “you were…you said my name. When you-“

Gerard cut him off with a mortified groan, turning to press his face into the pillows.

“Shit. I _thought_ you must have heard, and then you didn’t say anything and I thought I was off the hook. I’m sorry. That must have seemed…creepy,” he mumbled, pulling his face away just enough to free his mouth to speak. Frank shrugged.

“Not really. Um. It made me…think about how I felt. I liked it,” he murmured. He wasn’t sure if he’d moved closer, or if Gerard had, but suddenly, his knees were pressed against the other man’s. Gerard swallowed.

“I’m still sorry,” he murmured. Frank, in a spur of bravery, reached out to touch Gerard’s chest, earning a gentle, content hum.

“It’s okay,” he breathed. Gerard laughed, the motion vibrating against Frank’s palm.

“Okay as in…as in we can be friends? Or okay as in-

“Okay as in I wanna kiss you,” Frank murmured, closing the distance between them. Gerard beamed, wrapping an arm around his waist

“Yeah. Yeah, I want that too.” He barely finished his words, before Frank was pressed up against him, kissing him firmly, his lips soft and inviting, yet insistent, filled with a month’s worth of tension and longing. Gerard laughed, filled with pure glee. He moved his head down, kissing adoringly at Frank’s neck, his hands rubbing over his arms and hips.

“Gerard, Gerard, baby-“ the final word made Frank _giddy_ as he spoke it, “you need to sleep. But…in the morning-“

Gerard nodded, kissing him one last time, his lips turned up in a smile

“In the morning. I promise.”

*******

**DAY 35**

*******

“This isn’t gonna be forever, is it?” Frank asked. The pair were laying in Gerard’s bed, the covers wrapped around their bodies, both only clothed in their underwear. A sheen of sweat coated them both, and Frank, the asthmatic, was just about catching his breath.  
As luck would have it, having your name moaned by Gerard was much, _much_ nicer when you were in the room to hear it. And cause it.

Gerard glanced up from where he’d been kissing Frank’s collarbones, a gentle smirk on his lips.

“Us, or the apocalypse?” he asked. Frank giggled, snuggling closer to him.

“The apocalypse, of course,” he beamed, “I don’t want _you_ going anywhere.” He punctuated the statement with a firm nip to Gerard’s neck, the other man squealing in delight.

“I think- I think it’s gonna be over soon,” Gerard said, though his voice was uncertain, “but even if it’s not… I think this is the best I could have asked for. If I have to be locked away with no contact to the outside world and minimal supplies, then I’m gonna do it with a super hot guy in my bed,” Gerard teased. Frank feigned confusion, furrowing his brows.

“Who’s that, then?” he asked, barely able to keep the smirk off his face. Gerard groaned, pulling him closer

“Don’t make me _show you_ how pretty I think you are, Frankie. I’ll do it, I swear,” he giggled. Frank beamed, wrapping his arms around his neck with a contented sigh.

“Do whatever you want with me, honey. But you gotta let me go eventually. It’s my turn to make lunch, and I’ve got this spaghetti sauce recipe that you _have_ to try. I’m the best at it,” Frank said proudly. Gerard shrugged, fingers dancing down Frank’s body.

“Y’know what, baby? I don’t doubt it for a minute.”


End file.
